


Sgarm

by KR Grim (KR_Grim)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: A Group Of Kids Play A Game, AU - Kid Victory, Elves, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-01
Updated: 2010-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:16:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KR_Grim/pseuds/KR%20Grim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe that shouldn't exist, created by a session that was barren, formed by the loss and subsequent victory of four of the most dedicated players in the history of all the universes... eight elf kids get together to play a game that will prove bigger than any of them know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arin Thalnorn

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies about the formatting, but I can't get color to work for some ass-backwards reason. If anyone can give me info on how to colorize the pesterlogs, I will shower you with my eternal gratitude. Seriously.

**Part One: Arin Thalnorn**

 

Arin Thalnorn was a mostly-average elf, living on the planet Sauria. And today, the eighth day of the twelfth month, was her eighth bisolar orbit. For convenient reference, eight Sauriatic bisolar orbits equal approximately thirteen Earth years. At any rate, it was her birthday, and as such, we will begin our tale with her.

 

She had green hair, short for a female elf (which meant it fell only to her shoulders) and violet eyes. Like most elves, she dressed in greens and blues, with the occasional violet for added color. She preferred the darker hues of those colors. She lived with her mother in a fairly nice forest dwelling, and was a girl of many habits.

 

First and foremost among these was prognostication. Although she was terrible at predicting the future (especially with the aid of her beloved Black Oracles) she still enjoyed trying, and had many methods of fortune-telling at her disposal. Although she was horrible at actually predicting the future, she was quite able to make plans that would come true, a talent that more than made up for her failings in the favored abilities of the Seamstresseers, who she desired beyond all hope to join. Of course, she would have to pass tests before she could, and she would have to wait another five orbits before she was even eligible, but she could handle that.

 

Arin was also a fan of cinema, especially formulaic comedies. Unlike many of her friends, she was an actual honest-to-goodness fan of Elf Michael Cera, although she felt that his latest movie didn’t quite utilize his comedic potential to its full extent. Perhaps she would watch some of his earlier movies later. Or maybe an Elf Adam Sandler movie. But that would require actually _picking_ one.

 

Like all young elves, Arin had a strife specibus. Hers was set to scissorKind, the preferred weapon of the Seamstresseers. She was quite proficient with her scissors, to the point where if she ever fought an enemy, she could do serious damage.

 

Arin was excited. Today, the game she had been picked exclusively for would arrive. Her friends had also been chosen to receive this very unusually and inelegantly named game, Sgarm. She wasn’t sure what it would be like, but she was willing to bet that it would be a good way to reduce her own boredom, which had begun creeping upon her with every passing orbit. She felt like she had a great destiny to fulfill, and she knew all there was to know about destinies. Perhaps this Sgarm game would be the thing to help.

 

It wasn’t too long before Arin’s Adielf application on her computer began pinging her, vying for her attention. One of her friends had apparently begun trying to chat with her. She recognized the elfsign right away as the boy she had a secret crush on.

 

 **_orneryMusician began bothering finalFatespinner_ **

 

 **OM: hey arin**

 **OM: you on**

 **OM: did you get the game yet**

 **OM: did you get it yet**

 **OM: i wanna play it so bad c’mon please say you got it**

 **FF: I’m Sorry, But I Haven’t Gotten It Yet.**

 **FF: It Should Be Arriving Today, Though.**

 **FF: If It’s Not Late.**

 **FF: Which It Probably Will Be, Knowing My Luck.**

 **OM: hahaha man if mine came on time yours will too**

 **OM: i just wanna get things started you know**

 **OM: get playing this game**

 **OM: but mm’s the only other one who has a copy yet and she’s so damn busy**

 **FF: Isn’t That Always The Case, Though?**

 **FF: With Machinistocrat Hopefuls, That Is.**

 **FF: I Figured She Was Busy Doing Some Sort Of Trial Preparation Thing.**

 **FF: It’s What I’d Be Doing In Her Place.**

 **OM: look five orbits is way too early to be prepping for this shit**

 **OM: it’s like ladifuckingda**

 **OM: here i am with this burning desire to be in the mercantilawyers but you don’t see me practicing every fucking day**

 **OM: the trials are five orbits away**

 **OM: i’m just gonna hone my skills until then so i don’t have to be a nerd who memorizes all the tests**

 **FF: All Of Them?**

 **FF: You’d Have To Be Very Dedicated To Do That, I Think.**

 **FF: Anyway, I Had Better Go Check And See If The Game Arrived.**

 **OM: better have**

 

Arin got up from her computer and began walking down the stairs of her home toward the front door, where the mail was usually left. She was expecting to be able to get through the day with as little elven contact as possible, and this seemed a perfect opening for that. She grabbed the envelope addressed to her, as well as three brightly colored packages. Quickly, she rushed back upstairs to her sleeping chamber to avoid her mother’s intrusion. As she looked over the packages, her Adielf blinked at her again. She could let her friend wait a moment while she examined the gifts. Three of them, one from each of three of her friends. She idly wondered where the other four were.

 

She opened the gift of the friend who was messaging her first. She had to suppress the squeal of delight. She hadn’t known this had existed. If she had, she would have grabbed it up immediately. She looked at the note he had written to go with the gift.

 

 **hey arin, happy birthday**

 **i figure since you’ve got this huge crush on michael cera for some unfathomable reason you’d like this thing. seriously i don’t get your love for the guy but w/e he’s your crush dude. it’s not real it’s just a knockoff but i figure you can imagine it’s authentic. i mean not that it matters that much with a plush doll of that douche but i suppose maybe in your case it does.**

 **anyway i just want to say that you’re an awesome chick and it’s endearing in a way how you keep that up. so i guess what i’m saying is i hope you have an awesome birthday. i’m just glad the parcel system works so efficiently otherwise i’d have had to have sent this back in time. god i live so far away from you.**

 

He had signed the note, but of course his signature was illegible. And she knew his name anyway.

 

 ****

 **OM: please say you got the game**

 **OM: seriously arin**

 **OM: you gotta have gotten it**

 **OM: it was in my parcel hall this morning it oughta have been in yours**

 **FF: I Believe I Have Acquired The Game.**

 **FF: The Disc Is marked Client.**

 **OM: you oughta have a disc marked server too**

 **OM: isn’t that there with it**

 **FF: Apparently Not.**

 **FF: My Mother Probably Has The Server Disc With Her.**

 **FF: As Well As Some Of My Presents.**

 **OM: you got mine though right**

 **OM: i spent hours pickin out the right gift for you**

 **OM: it better fuckin be there**

 **FF: Don’t Worry.**

 **FF: I Received And Have Opened Your Gift.**

 **FF: Anyway, I’ll Install The Beta Now.**

 **FF: And While It’s Loading I’ll See If I Can’t Find My Mother And Get The Disc From Her.**

 **OM: good idea**

 **OM: get back to me when you get the server disc**

 **OM: or when you return to your chamber**

 **OM: either way**

 **OM: later arin**

 **FF: Wait.**

 **FF: Before You Go.**

 **FF: Thanks For The Gift. :)**

 **OM: no problem**

 **OM: i thought you’d like it**

 **OM: i still don’t get the michael cera thing**

 **OM: and DON’T EXPLAIN IT TO ME**

 **OM: channeled mm there for a sec**

 **OM: anyway later**

 **_orneryMusician finished bothering finalFatespinner_ **

 

Arin sighed. Even though it was Dualwinter and the daylight hours were growing fewer with each passing day, she had a feeling today was going to be a long day. She prepared for the fight that surely lay ahead of her. After all, her mother always insisted on having a duel every day, even going so far as to barge into her daughter’s sleeping chamber and begin attacking her with her knitting needles. Knitting needles! Seriously, who used those?

 

Arin looked into the sky. The first sun had barely crested the horizon, and the constellation of the Slime Ghost was still visible, its bright star Egbert shining down on her house. She idly wondered what kind of idiot thought Egbert was a good name for a star. She decided it was probably the same idiot who’d named the thing the Slime Ghost thousands of years ago.

 

Arin then looked at her scissors, the weapon allocated to her strife specibus upon deciding all those orbits ago to try and gain membership in the elite organization that was the Seamstresseers. It had been a grand ambition then, and it remained a grand ambition now. The only difference was her level of bladed skill, and not even her mother could deny that Arin had grown quite skilled with her scissors.

 

Of course, despite Arin’s skill, she wasn’t an adult, and that meant that she hadn’t had the training an adult elf would have, a fact that would reveal itself painfully in her duel against her mother, armed with the decidedly disadvantaged knitting needles. She thought back to the previous day’s duel. Although it wasn’t a fight to the death, Arin noted two points where she had to dodge and roll backwards to keep the needle from piercing her throat. The duels with her mother were getting deadlier by the day. The frightening aspect of this was the idea that eventually the duel _would_ be to the death, which would mean Arin would have to kill her mother. She didn ’t like thinking about that. It meant that her mother would die before she turned thirteen. That seemed so sad to her.

 

Arin steeled her nerves as she entered the Cookery Room of her home. Her mother would take the customary first strike, which she would have to be quick to parry. Her mother seemed different this morning, and her needles weren’t the normal pair of knitting needles she usually wielded. No, these were black, crackling with energies Arin recognized immediately as magic — and evil. This scared her. Today would be the day, she knew instinctively. Today she would have to kill her mother — or be killed by her.

 

***

 

To better understand this, perhaps we had better widen our focus a little and look at what elf culture expects of its youths.

 

From birth, every elf child has a certain set of skills hard-wired into them by their bloodline and time of birth. This, combined with their choice of desired career upon reaching the age of five orbits, is an important part of elf culture. Even more important, though, is the ritualized combat that young elves go through with their guardians. A large part of every profession is the ability to perform in some military capacity, whether it be martial or magical. Young elves are not supposed to be exposed to potential death in these combats, merely trained in combat. Nonlethal force is used by guardians so that the young elves can learn the basics of combat.

 

You’ll notice I mentioned magic back there. Magic exists here. This is at least partly due to the fact that this universe wasn’t supposed to come into existence. Its creators were fated to fail in a session that wasn’t supposed to bear fruit even if they won — and, for quite a while, they acted in accordance with their fate. Their subsequent victory and creation of a universe where there wasn’t supposed to be one led to several anomalies in the newly-formed universe. The biggest one was magic, followed closely by a massive amount of two-sunned planets.

 

But enough of that. It is time to return to our young friend Arin and her battle against her mother — a battle that, under normal circumstances, would not happen… except that her mother gained possession of an ancient and evil artifact.

 

***

 

The first strike wasn’t even a physical attack. It was a magical blast of evil energy fired from one of the two needles, which Arin managed to duck beneath — although it singed her hair. She wasn’t sure what these needles were, but she recognized that they had taken over her mother, overridden her personality. She had to get them away from her mother.

 

She rushed toward her mother, dodging another blast from the dark needles by ducking and rolling up to her mother. She quickly clasped the blades of her scissors around one of the needles’ shafts and half-disarmed her mother, throwing the needle across the room. This left her mother with one needle, a homicidal urge, and the advantages of an adult frame. Arin was still at a disadvantage against those odds, but she had youthful speed on her side.

 

Rolling under her mother’s strike with the knitting needle, she held the scissors by one handle and one blade and slashed at her mother’s needle-holding arm with the other blade. She didn’t notice the other needle slash at her face, mostly because she didn’t expect it to return to her mother’s free hand.

 

The slash across Arin’s face would heal, but the scar it produced would be a constant reminder never to think that an enemy’s arms could be permanently disarmed without killing them. Arin’s retaliatory strike was not with open-bladed scissor, but with scissors closed, the point stabbing into her mother’s neck. Arin withdrew the blade in one smooth, if rather frightened motion, seeing the black elven blood coat it. Arin’s mother wasn’t dead yet, but she had been stunned by Arin’s blow. Arin wasted little time, stabbing her mother hard in one wrist. Arin had to struggle to keep her fear managed, a difficult task considering that her mother — a mother who had loved her all these years — was now trying to kill her.

 

“Arin, you’ve been a very naughty girl!” shouted her mother, despite the bleeding hole in her throat. Her other hand stabbed at Arin’s left eye with the needle, but Arin rolled backwards out of the way. “Come to Mother and die, Arin!”

 

“No, Mother,” she said quietly, watching the grotesque mockery that had once been her mother stand up, the needle falling from the hand whose wrist had been stabbed. As it landed on the floor, it crackled with black energy and fired off a blast that hit the stove head on. It didn’t stand a chance and exploded in a fireball, the door flying off and knocking Arin’s mother onto the ground, snapping her back. And yet, she still stood back up, despite the blow that should have shattered her spine and femurs.

 

“Come, Arin,” she said. Her voice was full of menace, and she coughed, more blood spilling from her mouth. “Come and die for me. Ungrateful daughter.” Arin stabbed her mother again with the scissors, this time hitting her square in the chest. “Hahaha… yes…” Arin withdrew the blood-coated blade, seeing her mother’s form finally collapse. The other needle fell out of her limp hand. She looked at her daughter, her violet eyes clouding over. “I’m… sorry, Arin…”

 

“Mother…” Arin held her mother’s form, and she could feel the life flee the bleeding corpse, even as she held it. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

 

For more reason than she had ever had in eight orbits, Arin cried.

 


	2. Olem Mordrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second elf, an entry into the Medium, and the introduction of more friends! Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First eight chapters are each going to name an elf kid. And they're going to follow the Skaia Daisy-chain.

**Part Two: Olem Mordrest**

 

Arin didn’t know it, but her server player had been watching her cry for the past half hour. He was half a continent away, off in the middle of a vast desert known as the Ocean of Infinite Sands, one of the biggest deserts on Sauria. Because it was Dualwinter, he had several layers on to protect against the cold of night, though they were all white. Only his face showed, as well as a small amount of his blue hair. His red eyes were partially hidden behind thick goggles, and he had on thick gloves and tight boots both to keep heat in and keep sand out. His name was Olem Mordrest, and he was a desert elf, dark-skinned from heavy exposure to the two suns.

 

Olem considered himself an amazing musician, but most people would disagree. Not because he was bad at performing with his chosen instrument — quite the contrary, he was a regular virtuoso. Rather, it was his choice of instrument. Drummers don’t traditionally get that much respect for their skills unless they’re the best of the best. Nevertheless, he had allocated his drumsticks to his Strife Specibus — combat was easier, he found, when you treated it like a drum solo. Olem was also a fan of action movies, especially the cheesier ones. He was also a student of law, and a sharp eye at both observation and cards. Especially cards.

 

Olem sat at his computer, watching Arin cradle her dead guardian in her arms. Finally, he could take it no longer. The sorrow of seeing her with her dead guardian in her arms was more than he could stand. He lifted a candelabra from the table and placed it next to Arin, who reacted with something akin to shock. She pulled a PDA from her sylladex and began messaging him.

 

 **_finalFatespinner began bothering orneryMusician_ **

**FF: How Much Of What Was Just Going On Now Did You See, Olem?**

 **OM: i just saw you crying over your mom’s dead body**

 **OM: that is her dead body right**

 **OM: i don’t think she’s normally that bloody**

 **FF: No, Not Usually.**

 **FF: But She Doesn’t Usually Try To Kill Me During Our Duels.**

 **FF: It Was The Strange Artifact Needles She Wielded.**

 **FF: They Seem To Pulse With An Evil Energy.**

 **OM: i bet you could get oo to get you the dirt on what they are**

 **OM: she’s deep into the dark magic bullshit**

 **OM: seriously it kinda creeps me out**

 **FF: Thank You For The Kind Words Of Condolence**

 **OM: hey**

 **OM: i didn’t really know what to say**

 **OM: but i’m sorry your mom’s dead ok**

 **OM: and besides**

 **OM: you said she was trying to kill you**

 **FF: It Wasn’t A Normal Thing.**

 **FF: She Just Did For Some Reason.**

 **OM: well i dunno**

 **OM: anyway it looks like i can manipulate your environment**

 **OM: i may have accidentally ripped your waste receptacle from the walls of your bathing room**

 **FF: You Did What?**

 **OM: i was just trying to get a handle on the controls**

 **OM: not my fault that it took two build grist and tore your waste receptacle out of the floor**

 **OM: with some of the floor with it**

 **FF: What Are You Talking About?**

 **FF: And What In The Red-Blood Halls Of Hell Is Build Grist?**

 **OM: it’s this stuff that the game gives me to mess around with your house**

 **OM: but i only got twenty of em**

 **OM: well eighteen now**

 **OM: anyway it looks like there’s some free stuff in here**

 **OM: i’m gonna drop a few things on you**

 

Olem was finding this more difficult than he’d thought it would be. First he’d ripped her waste receptacle from her bathing room and somehow stuck it on the roof — something she was already somewhat pissed about, from her expression  — and now he was dropping heavy things all over her house. An “Alchemiter” went in her parcel hall, blocking the most direct route to the Cooking Room (although she could still get there from the second floor, provided she made a hole). A “Cruxtruder” was next, going in her sleeping chamber (after he’d moved her sleeping pad into the parcel hall). Finally, a “Totem Lathe” was placed next to the Alchemiter, which meant moving the sleeping pad again.

 

This time, however, his movements inadvertently dropped the pad’s metal frame on the top of the Cruxtruder, causing the cap to pop off. A strange floating thing exited and flew over to where Arin was standing. She looked at it, poking at it curiously, but it seemed to evade her finger.

 

Olem was just as confused as she was. “The fuck is that?” he asked himself. But before he could ask her the question on his mind, his Adielf beeped. One of their friends was trying to get ahold of him.

 

 **_masterfulMetallurgist began bothering orneryMusician_ **

**MM: HEY, OLEM!**

 **MM: HOW’S IT GOING?**

 **MM: HAVING A GOOD TIME YET WITH THAT NEW GAME?**

 **OM: why yes as a matter of fact i am**

 **OM: me and arin have begun playing**

 **OM: you want in**

 **MM: I’D LOVE IN!**

 **MM: I SHOULD MENTION I GOT A COPY OF IT.**

 **MM: IT LOOKS PRETTY EXCLUSIVE, TO BE HONEST.**

 **MM: LIKE A LIMITED RUN OR SOMETHING.**

 **OM: well maybe that’s what it is**

 **OM: limited run game of some kind**

 **OM: i think all eight of us got a copy though**

 **MM: THAT’D BE NEAT!**

 **MM: BUT YEAH JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO AND I’LL GET RIGHT ON IT.**

 **MM: UNLESS THESE MACHINES NEED MY ATTENTION.**

 **MM: YOU MIGHT HAVE TO BE SECOND PRIORITY, OLEM!**

 **MM: HEEHEEHEE.**

 **OM: that’s fine by me**

 **OM: just don’t ignore me and we’ll be cool**

 **OM: it looks mostly like a building game**

 **OM: ok so you want to use the server disc and connect to me as your player**

 **MM: CAN DO, OLEM!**

 **MM: I’LL PING YOU WHEN THE GAME’S INSTALLED.**

 **MM: RIGHT NOW I HAVE TO GO MAKE SURE THE ENGINE IN MY MECHANINE IS STILL RUNNING.**

 **MM: LATER!**

 **OM: ok see ya**

 **_masterfulMachinist finished bothering orneryMusician_ **

 

***

 

Arin had been paying attention to the cruxtruder ever since Olem had hit it with her sleeping pad’s framepost. It was counting down from eight minutes and twelve seconds for some reason. The thing that had popped out was difficult to understand. It spouted gibberish and didn’t look like any sort of spell Arin had ever encountered.

 

It was less disconcerting than the countdown, though. She had no idea what it meant. She couldn’t have known at this early point in the game that a meteor would wipe out her home’s location. For now, the countdown was merely an ominous omen, and the floating ball thing was following her around. As she began to posit ideas as to what this ball was, one of her other friends began messaging her.

 

 **_monumentalIntellect began bothering finalFatespinner_ **

**MI: Arin, I cannot begin to fathom the birthday greetings i wish heartily to bestow upon thee.**

 **MI: This is truly a momentous occasion.**

 **FF: Um, Hi To You Too.**

 **FF: So I Guess You Got The Game?**

 **MI: No mere recreation this.**

 **MI: But to posit an answer to your query…**

 **MI: Indubitably.**

 **FF: You Know, Using All Those Big Words Makes You Sound Like A Thesaurus.**

 **MI: Potentially.**

 **MI: Theredespite, my station requires that I forcefully assert my blood-given supremacy via sovereign language.**

 **FF: Blood Or Hair?**

 **MI: My locks are of the most regal coloration and this supposition of yours ignores my most noble heritage.**

 **MI: My descent from the legendary heroes of yore.**

 **MI: Ask any who keep such knowledge, and they will inform you outright of the regal pedigree.**

 **FF: Yes, Yes, I Know.**

 **FF: I Just Don’t Believe That Little Bit Of It.**

 **MI: Well, that matters not in the least bit.**

 **MI: What currently matters is whether you are enjoying this, the day of your birth.**

 **MI: Would I be correct to presume the pinnacle of enjoyment?**

 **FF: Not Really.**

 **FF: I Just Had To Kill My Mother.**

 **MI: Oh.**

 **MI: Um.**

 **MI: Sorry.**

 **MI: Well.**

 **MI: Seeing the time, I suppose I should return to royal duties I am obviously shirking.**

 **MI: Farewell, Arin, and may your day of birth be joyous theredespite!**

 **FF: Theredespite isn’t even a word.**

 **MI: Whatever. Farewell!**

 **_monumentalIntellect ceased bothering finalFatespinner_ **

 

Arin sighed. Sure, the guy was a pompous ass sometimes, but he was a decent guy. A bit stiff and formal sometimes, but decent nonetheless. And even if he didn’t exactly show a whole lot of remorse, that wasn’t royal style, and she knew that he was obviously saddened by her loss. Which was good enough, she supposed. It wasn’t like she was his girlfriend. As she looked up from her PDA, she saw her server player do something that was just plain unacceptable — not to mention unhygenic.

 

 **_finalFatespinner began bothering orneryMusician_ **

**FF: Don’t You Fucking Dare.**

 **FF: I Am Not Going To Let You Drop My Waste Receptacle Into The Weird Looking Thing There.**

 **OM: heh**

 **OM: i was just messin with ya**

 **OM: anyway i was actually thinkin of using something like that weird-ass statue or somethin**

 **FF: Why Not Use Something That Isn’t Bigger Than I Am?**

 **FF: Here, I’ll Make It Easy For You.**

 **FF: I Have A Doll We Can Use.**

 **FF: It’s A Bit Ratty But It Should Do.**

 **OM: you mean the thing i got you for your birthday**

 **OM: your new michael cera crushdoll**

 **OM: cuz that shit’s brand new**

 **OM: ain’t ratty at all**

 **FF: I Meant A Childhood Possession.**

 **FF: One Moment.**

 

Arin ran up to her sleeping chamber, grabbing a ratty old Rhinophant doll from her dresser. She tossed it at the strange looking orb, which shined brightly for a moment before returning to vision with a Rhinophant head in it.The magnificent horn-tipped trunk and the great tusks of the Rhinophant looked oddly out of place without the rest of the burly body, but Arin wasn’t so concerned about that right now. Right now, what mattered was figuring out what was up with the countdown. It now read 6:12, and there was a sylladex card with various holes punched in it lying on her floor. She captchalogued it and took a closer look.

 

The item — what could be made out of it — was a green mirror, the same color as her hair. She was confused as to the purpose of the holes. She removed the punched card from her sylladex and tried to take the item in it — with no success. The item was apparently trapped inside.

 

 **FF: What Am I Supposed To Do With This?**

 **OM: hell if i know**

 **OM: try turning the little wheel thing on the cruxtruder**

 **FF: The What?**

 **OM: the thing i put in your sleeping chamber**

 **FF: All Right.**

 

***

 

Olem sighed. She was running around her chamber, throwing things in the sparkle ball, and for what purpose? None that Olem could tell.

 

For fun, he deleted a small section of wall in her sleeping chamber. It wasn’t much, and it actually added to the grist he had, although it only added two and it probably made the house less structurally sound. But whatever, it wasn’t like building her house would be something he’d have to do in the future.

 

He watched as she thought on her own to put the punched card in the totem lathe and use the alchemiter to create the object the pre-punched card had designed. It was a tall green mirror, about as big as an adult elf. It was ornate, and probably very fragile, and Olem had no idea why she was given something that looked like one wrong touch could shatter it.

 

The difficulty of keeping the mirror intact was probably the reason why Arin hadn’t attempted to even move it, instead heading outside her home.

 

It was fairly normal for her part of the world. Her house was built from the trunk of a formerly-living tree, its foundation was the still-supportive root systems, and instead of bark, the outside of the hollowed-out tree was covered in white paint.

 

Arin, meanwhile, was looking through her neighbors’ crowns and pulled out a telescope from her modus, looking at the sky. A few moments later, she began badgering Olem with her bothering.

 

 **FF: Not To Alarm You, But I See A Meteor Headed For Me.**

 **FF: It Appears To Be Fairly Sizable.**

 **OM: how big we talking**

 **OM: bigger than a trunkhouse**

 **OM: bigger than a city**

 **FF: Big Enough That Unless It Is Stopped My Doom Is Assured.**

 **FF: I Estimate Slightly More Than Four Minutes Until It Impacts.**

 **FF: Oddly Enough, The Cruxtruder Displays A Countdown Currently At Four Minutes Thirteen Seconds.**

 **FF: I Do Not Think This Is Coincidence.**

 **OM: prob’ly not**

 **OM: it’s a bit of a reach**

 **OM: anyway there’s gotta be a way to stop the meteor**

 **FF: I Think I Will Look For A Solution.**

 **FF: I Believe I Can Find A Solution In The Cooking Room.**

 **FF: Which Won’t Be Hard To Get To.**

 **OM: what about the mirror**

 **OM: that’s kinda blocking the whole way you know**

 **FF: Then I Suppose I Will Have To Accept The Mirror Curse.**

 **_finalFatespinner ceased bothering orneryMusician_ **

 

***

 

Arin took in a deep breath. She had two minutes left. No, wait, there was the whole ordeal of keeping her sylladex from jumping around like a bag full of frightened weasels. It was almost as though her Body Modus was reacting to the meteor’s approach. Either way, she rearmed her scissors and struck a decisive blow against it, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces.

 

Sixty seconds later, a meteor collided with Sauria, destroying the entire sector where Arin had been living.


	3. Ilya Mirikesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three of Eight, the first Imp Battle, and an elven machinist... or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are in our third chapter. Sorry this has taken so long, but chapter 4 didn't want to be written. It's... a weakness chapter 4s of mine usually have.

**Part Three: Ilya Mirikesh**

 

Years in the future, but not many…

 

A Verbose Meanderer idly wanders through the desert wasteland, twin suns glaring down at him.

 

***

 

In a room full of machinery, a young elf girl was looking after her belongings. Most of them were mechanical in nature, and “looking after them” meant trying to fix them after they had broken. Her name was Ilya Mirikesh, and she had several large hearing problems. They were piled throughout her room and making large amounts of noise. And every so often, one of them would break.

 

Ilya was a master of many tools, from the hammer and tongs to the wrench and screwdriver. Her primary weapons were a dual-wielded pair of wrenches, but when it came down to it, she could use any tool proficiently as a weapon of combat, whether individual or mass. She loved her tools and her machines dearly. Her dream was to join the lofty ranks of the Machinistocrats, the legislative branch of elven government. She was also a great fan of roleplaying scenarios, especially those where the stakes were nothing less than the fate of the world.

 

Playing those kind of games made her feel like she was really _doing_ something. Something important. Something awesome. Something truly worthy of… Her train of thought petered out as a friend messaged her. She wondered what she would want on this cold Dualwinter afternoon. And it was about then that her copy of Adielf began blinking at her and letting out a feeble “quack” that barely sounded over her machinery.

 

 **_obliviousOccultist began bothering masterfulMetallurgist_ **

**OO: ilya.**

 **OO: do you have time.**

 **OO: am i wasting time.**

 **OO: probably.**

 **OO: farewell.**

 **MM: WAIT!**

 **MM: HI!**

 **MM: WHAT DO YOU WANT?**

 **OO: i have a question.**

 **OO: do you believe in ghosts.**

 **MM: NO, NOT REALLY.**

 **MM: I MEAN, I SUPPOSE THEY COULD EXIST, BUT WHY WOULD A DEAD PERSON EVER COME BACK FROM THE DEAD?**

 **MM: IT JUST DOESN’T MAKE MUCH SENSE TO ME THAT THEY’D EXIST.**

 **MM: WHY DID YOU WANT TO KNOW, ANYWAY?**

 **OO: i thought i saw something.**

 **OO: i was wrong.**

 **OO: it looked like a ghost.**

 **OO: but there are none.**

 **MM: THE GHOST OF WHO?**

 **OO: there were four of them.**

 **OO: the legendary heroes.**

 **MM: YOU MEAN YOU THINK YOU SAW THE FOUR IMMORTALS?**

 **MM: LUCKYYYYY!**

 **MM: I WISH I COULD SEE THEM!**

 **OO: it was a short look.**

 **OO: that was all.**

 **OO: i must go.**

 **OO: farewell.**

 **MM: OK, BYE!**

 **MM: HAVE FUN DOING WHATEVER IT IS YOU DO AT THAT MAGIC CAMP THINGY!**

 **_obliviousOccultist ceased bothering masterfulMetallurgist_ **

 

That conversation, reflected Ilya, had gone about as well as any conversation with her could go. Yes, she had been short, but she was always short. Ilya still wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the training of the magic camp. Idly, Ilya wondered why engines refused to accept the forces of magic into themselves.

 

But there would be time for pondering later! Right now, she barely heard the ding of Adielf over her own room filled with engines, seeing a different friend poking her.

 

 **_finalFatespinner began bothering masterfulMetallurgist_ **

**FF: I Was Wondering If You’d Mind Talking To Me About Something.**

 **FF: It’s Kind Of An Important Subject.**

 **FF: You See, I’ve Been Anticipating The Arrival Of A Certain Game.**

 **MM: OH YEAH, THAT ONE!**

 **MM: I BET IT COMES TODAY!**

 **FF: As Do I, But I Have No Idea If It Will Or Not.**

 **FF: It’s Beginning To Piss Me Off.**

 **FF: Big Time.**

 **FF: Do You Have Your Copies Yet?**

 **MM: YEAH, BUT I HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO INSTALL IT YET.**

 **MM: THINGS KEEP POPPING UP.**

 **MM: EXCESS SPRINGS OR WOUND-DOWN MOTORS OR OTHER BITS OF GREASEMONKEYING.**

 **MM: SO I HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO INSTALL IT.**

 **MM: TRY OLEM, HE’S GOOD WITH THAT.**

 **FF: I Doubt Olem Has Much Free Time, Ilya.**

 **FF: Seriously, The Guy’s Probably Combing Some Dune.**

 **FF: Looking For The Rest Of His Stupid Dragon.**

 **MM: HEY, IT COULD BE WORSE.**

 **FF: Nah.**

 **FF: He’s Way Too Obsessed With That Skull.**

 **MM: HMMM…**

 **MM: SOUNDS TO ME LIKE YOU’RE THE ONE OBSESSED WITH IT.**

 **MM: HE HARDLY TALKS ABOUT IT AT ALL ANYMORE.**

 **FF: That’s Stupid.**

 **FF: Why Would I Care About How Some Dumb Old Sea Dragon Skull Wound Up In The Middle Of The Fucking Desert.**

 **FF: It’s Stupid.**

 **FF: Anyway, I Gotta Go Now.**

 **FF: I Don’t Want To Keep My Birthday Breakfast Waiting.**

 **FF: Kinda Hungry Here.**

 **MM: OK!**

 **MM: BYE ARIN!**

 **_finalFatespinner ceased bothering masterfulMetallurgist_ **

 

Ilya sighed. It was tough to remember that noon where she lived was 6 AM where Arin was. It was even tougher for her to remember that their nations were technically at war with each other, even though active hostilities had ceased several orbits before either of them had even been born.

 

She didn’t have much time to think about it, though. Someone else was messaging her. Someone whose answers about everything were always cryptic.

 

 **_idioticFantasies began bothering masterfulMetallurgist_ **

**IF: Yo, Ilya!**

 **IF: Today’s the big day.**

 **IF: Once my copy of the game comes, you want to play?**

 **MM: YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE I’M GOING TO BE GETTING THIS GAME.**

 **MM: WHAT IF I’M NOT?**

 **MM: AND ANYWAY, WHY WOULD I WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU?**

 **IF: Because it’s going to be fun!**

 **IF: And because that’s sort of how things are supposed to go down, I think.**

 **IF: Arin’s the first one in.**

 **IF: Next comes Olem.**

 **MM: IN WHERE?**

 **IF: Into the game, silly!**

 **IF: I’ve been getting hints about it.**

 **IF: Prophetic hints.**

 **MM: SO IT’S AN IMMERSIVE SIMULATION?**

 **MM: SOUNDS LIKE A PRETTY COOL IDEA.**

 **IF: Sorta?**

 **IF: The dreams weren’t really all that helpful on what kind of game it was.**

 **IF: Anyway I gotta go for a bit.**

 **IF: My guardian is bugging me about picking up after myself.**

 **MM: HAHAHA!**

 **MM: LATER!**

 **_masterfulMetallurgist ceased bothering idioticFantasies_ **

 

Ilya sighed. That guy. What his deal was she’d never know. Claiming that dream clouds had given him insight into something… Pff. Yeah right. Prophetic dream clouds were something stupid babies believed in. Predicting the future was something a professional prognosticator did, a Seamstresseer or a Cantoracle. It wasn’t someone with dream clouds. She picked up her tools and walked over to her machinery corner.

 

***

 

 **II: oh wow! :O**

 **II: it sounds like you’ve got a lot of trouble on your hands… : <**

 **OM: no shit**

 **OM: arin’s been unresponsive and ilya is still playing with her goddamn machines**

 **OM: it’s kinda hard being ignored like this**

 **II: i’m not ignoring you! :3**

 **OM: what is that even supposed to be**

 **OM: are you like a cat or something**

 **II: no, i just like how it looks… : <**

 **II: anyway i bet things will be a-ok, olem! :D**

 **II: i’ll try contacting arin and see if she responds! :3**

 **OM: ok**

 **OM: i’ll keep this window open**

 

Olem sighed. He had seen her running around her house, stopping, shaking her head… he had no idea what the hell she was up to, but he didn’t like it. It was so annoying, and he couldn’t even tell where she was. The landscape around her house had changed, and she was surrounded by amethysts and glass and fool’s gold in a field-like landscape, and there was something else floating around in the air — something that looked like stardust.

 

As he was watching her caper around, he saw his now-silenced Adielf jump, showing the icon of the girl who was supposed to be his server player. “Finally,” he muttered as he opened the window.

 

 **_masterfulMetallurgist began bothering orneryMusician_ **

**MM: HI OLEM!**

 **OM: warrior’s hammer where have you been**

 **OM: i’ve been watchin arin act crazier than oo here**

 **OM: and i’ve been waiting for you to connect to me**

 **MM: SORRY!**

 **MM: I HAD SOME TROUBLE WITH MY STUFF!**

 **MM: MY ENGINES WERE KINDA WEARING DOWN.**

 **MM: AND I DON’T THINK I CAN FIX MY MECHANINE. D:**

 **MM: HE’S GONE.**

 **OM: you think that’s bad talk to arin**

 **OM: she kinda had to kill her mom**

 **OM: evil artifact**

 **OM: oo won’t tell me what it was**

 **OM: but it kinda forced arin to kill her**

 **MM: ARIN HAS AN EVIL ARTIFACT?**

 **MM: ISN’T THAT A BIT DANGEROUS?**

 **OM: her mom had it dumpass**

 **OM: didn’t get a good look at it**

 **MM: UM…**

 **MM: THAT STILL SOUNDS REALLY DANGEROUS.**

 **MM: BUT ANYWAY YEAH I CAN GET YOU PLAYING.**

 **MM: HANG ON WHILE I JUST MOVE SOME STUFF AROUND.**

 

Olem sighed as Ilya began messing around with his cave, stretching the dimensions and placing down weird devices. The really bad one, though, was what she put in his entryway.

 

 **OM: ilya**

 **OM: how the fuck am i supposed to get out when you drop the goddamn totem lathe in front of my door**

 **OM: can’t even exit my room now**

 **OM: dammit ilya pay attention**

 **MM: SORRY!**

 **MM: I DON’T THINK I CAN MOVE IT, THOUGH.**

 **MM: IT’S KINDA STUCK THERE.**

 **MM: SEEMS TO COST TOO MUCH GRIST TO MOVE.**

 **OM: no shit**

 **OM: it’s like 100 for the cruxtruder**

 **OM: i don’t even want to know how much this thing costs**

 **MM: IT’S 100 TOO, BUT I ALREADY SPENT 180 REVISING YOUR CAVE SO IT’S MORE LIKE A HOUSE.**

 **OM: great**

 **OM: fucking great**

 **OM: can you at least put in an opening**

 **OM: so i can go outside**

 **MM: YEAH, I CAN DO THAT.**

 **MM: THAT LOOK GOOD?**

 **MM: I HOPE SO.**

 **MM: ANYWAY IT’S TIME FOR ME TO DROP THIS THINGY HERE I GUESS.**

 **OM: a pre-punched card huh**

 **OM: hey would you do me a favor and bop open the cruxtruder**

 **OM: shouldn’t be hard**

 **OM: you can use the dragon skull**

 **MM: ALL RIGHT!**

 **MM: BE BACK IN A FLASH.**

 

Olem looked at the item on the pre-punched card. It had fewer holes than Arin’s item had had, and it appeared to be a staff. He frowned as he heard the top pop off the Cruxtruder… and then saw his Adielf jumping frantically, trying to grab his attention.

 

 **MM: OH FUCK.**

 **OM: what happened**

 **OM: did you break it**

 **OM: did you break my fucking dragon skull**

 **OM: that was like my favorite decoration**

 **MM: NOT EXACTLY.**

 **MM: I KINDA ACCIDENTALLY DROPPED IT IN THE SEIZURE BUBBLE.**

 **OM: …**

 **OM: what.**

 

Olem walked into the room where his cruxtruder had been placed. Floating there was the same sort of weird ball-looking thing he’d seen in Arin’s house, except instead of a rhinophant like Arin had had, the middle of his had a massive dragon head. It looked at him and continued to follow him around. It was about then that someone else tried to get ahold of him.

 

 **_idioticFantasies began bothering orneryMusician_ **

**IF: Hey, Olem.**

 **IF: Found something you might find useful.**

 **IF: Apparently it was written by someone who played this game.**

 **OM: you mean like one of us from the future**

 **IF: Unless you know a “Rose Lalonde”, no.**

 **IF: My guardian and my dream clouds directed me to it.**

 **OM: pff you and your dream clouds**

 **OM: it’s like you’re asleep and they tell you shit**

 **OM: and somehow it all comes true because they’re better at telling the future than a seamstresseer**

 **IF: They’re not telling the future.**

 **IF: We’ve been over this.**

 **OM: it acts enough like it**

 **OM: anyway send me the file man**

 **OM: or was that just a way to get me to talk to you**

 **IF: Here, hang on a minute.**

 **_idioticFantasies transferred “RL_Walkthrough.txt” to orneryMusician_ **

**IF: My dreams said this would help you.**

 **IF: I trust them.**

 **OM: if you say so dude**

 **OM: looks like it’s so damn long**

 **OM: this must have all the words**

 **OM: all of them**

 **IF: Well, that’s all I really had to say.**

 **IF: It’ll probably be a while before we talk again!**

 **IF: You’ll be busy, I’ll be busy, this whole thing will just be a mess of busywork.**

 **OM: right, ok**

 **OM: i’m gonna make this thing and then read your walkthrough**

 **OM: so later**

 **IF: Later, Olem.**

 **_idioticFantasies ceased bothering orneryMusician_ **

 

Olem made the totem and the staff, then slung the staff across his shoulders and set to reading the walkthrough. The wall of text hit him like a brick to the face.

 

***

 

Arin walked out her front door. In front of her was a land of crystalline wonder and delight. She couldn’t wait to set foot in this new land ripe for exploration and — 

 

 **AH, YOU THERE.**

 **GIRL.**

 **_Her name is Arin._ **

**ARIN.**

 ****

Arin blinked. Something had echoed in the back of her head, something dull and indistinct. Shaking her head, she made a movement towards the door again.

 

 **ACTUALLY, BEFORE YOU LEAVE, I WAS WONDERING IF I MIGHT TROUBLE YOU FOR SOME CUSTOMARY ELVEN GREETINGS.**

 **ALSO, I AM SEARCHING FOR A SUITABLE SWORDLIKE OBJECT WITH WHICH TO DEFEND MYSELF AGAINST THE VARIOUS FAUNA THAT ARE ENCROACHING UPON MY CURRENT LOCATION.**

 **KNOW YOU OF ANY SUCH OBJECT THAT I MIGHT BE ABLE TO FIND?**

 ****

Arin paused. There was a sudden urge to get a combat knife, but… the only place that would have one would be her mother ’s room. Cautiously, she went up the stairs and opened the unlocked door. The room didn’t really contain any stunning revelations — a set of knitting needles, a picture of Arin, a lacquer box that had apparently held two needles — likely the evil artifacts that had possessed her. Arin rifled through her mother’s belongings, stopping only when she heard something crash in the hall outside the room. She ran out of the door to see what was going on.

 

 **BE CAREFUL, ARIN.**

 **I AM UNSURE WHETHER THIS IS IN FACT OF A NORMAL PERSUASION FOR YOU, BUT SOMETHING APPEARS AMISS.**

 

Arin shook her head. Nothing in the hall was out of place, and what few things might seem suspicious could be explained away by the strange nature of the place she had found herself in. Her door was ajar, and there were several puddles of sparkling liquid in all sorts of colors in the hall. Being careful enough to avoid the biggest puddles, she moved into her room. There wasn’t any indication that anything was in there, of course, and so with that thought safely in her head she began to see if maybe her mother had placed the knife in her room or — 

 

 **LOOK OUT!**

 

Arin barely had time to dodge the first attack from the Imp, which was a shining, crystalline thing with the Rhinophant’s mighty tusks, horn, and trunk. And it had a fistful of pins, which it was using as thrown darts — somewhat unusual for a pin fighter, reflected Arin as she stabbed it with her scissors.

 

The imp exploded, splattering blue crystalline liquid on Arin. It also dropped some gusher-like items, which she quickly picked up. She wasn’t quite sure what they were, and perhaps she would ask Olem later. But first, to explore her surroundings.

 

***

 

 **OM: yeah no that imp apparently dropped something called crystal**

 **OM: which i kinda needed for the designix**

 **OM: so there you go**

 **FF: And What, Exactly, Am I Supposed To Do With This?**

 **FF: Not That It Might Not Be Useful, But…**

 **OM: it’s got tons of uses**

 **OM: apparently it’s meant to be used for a punchcard alchemy system**

 **OM: reading this walkthrough if set me**

 **OM: it’s pretty boss**

 **FF: Interesting.**

 **FF: Does It Give Any Information On Where I Am?**

 **OM: kinda**

 **OM: you’re in the medium**

 **OM: apparently everyone gets a planet and a set of gates**

 **OM: so yeah**

 **OM: hang on**

 **OM: i’m gonna try tier two prototyping your sprite**

 **FF: What?**

 **OM: i’m gonna drop something on your rhinophant ghost**

 

Arin watched as he picked up her mother’s corpse and tried to place it in the weird… sprite thing. A blinding flash of white told Arin that the fusion had been accepted. The sprite would be a fusion of her mother and a rhinophant. She almost didn’t want to look and see what it looked like.

 

Floating in front of her was a being that looked mostly like her mother, but she had the rhinophant’s trunk, horn, and tusks, as well as gigantic ears. The sprite smiled down at Arin. “Arin…” She let out a loud trumpet. “Sorry. At any rate… here I am, my little angelf.” The sprite smiled sadly at Arin. “I’m sorry. Sorry for all the trouble I caused you today, having to — “ Here, she trumpeted again. Arin let a little giggle loose. “To kill me to save yourself,” she said. Arin sat down and closed her eyes.

 

“Mother… what were those things? The… er… the cursed artifacts you wielded in our final battle?” Mothersprite frowned.

 

“I don’t know their proper name,” she said, “but they’re an ancient family heirloom. Family lore says they were given us by the Rose Consort for fear she would use them to crack the world in two.” The sprite floated over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry, Arin.”

 

Arin stood up. “…And I’m here in the Medium?” Mothersprite smiled.

 

“That’s right. You’re in the Medium, and there will be eight of you in total.” Mothersprite trumpeted again. “So now… Now I suppose I should explain thins. You see, the gates above you lead to the Battlefield, where the Light and Dark Kingdoms are at war. It is a fated loss for the Kingdom of Light, and a fated victory for the Kingdom of Dark.” Mothersprite floated over to the window. “And so you will have to search, wading through this land of Consorts, Underlings, Agents, and Denizens. You may even learn something.” Mothersprite hugged her. “I believe in you, my daughter. Now… we must build up!”

 

“Up?”

 

“To the first gate! All will be clearer once you have reached it!”

 

Arin pulled out her PDA again.

 

 **FF: Hey, Olem.**

 **FF: Could You Build My House Upwards?**

 **OM: already on it**

 **OM: this shit’s like the first thing in the guide**

 **OM: build everything upwards**

 **FF: Good To See There’s Someone Doing Something About This.**

 **FF: Anything Else You Can Suggest?**

 **OM: yeah**

 **OM: your house is lousy with imps**

 **OM: might want to kill ‘em**

 **OM: up the grist i get to work with and replenish that shit**

 **FF: All Right.**

 **_finalFatespinner ceased bothering orneryMusician_ **

 

Arin readied her scissors. It was time to kick imp ass.


End file.
